Slut
by Natasha Shaitanova
Summary: Harry takes what he wants and refusal does not go over well. Everyone loves him, don't they? When a breakup goes sour, he turns to Draco to rectify the situation..."I could have been your doll..." First chapter completely changed. Complete.
1. Doll

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Slut 

By Natasha Shaitanova

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Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_. Also don't own Velvet Acid Christ.

A/N: No character death, actually. Just some disturbing psychology. Maybe.

Oh and I don't give a shit about the 7th Book plotline. Everything is readapted as necessary (I'm sure you're used to that.)

**Very much changed from the original posting!!**

* * *

_Good morning, mother, please don't cry,_

_My news won't bode too well,_

_Your hero is still bound to die,_

_At the start of my tale. _

* * *

_Present_

The TV screen situated over the bar at the Leaky Cauldron was unnecessarily turned up to the highest volume as the occupants of the café stared at the news reportage in silence.

"…Draco Malfoy reported yesterday that his Auror partner Harry Potter was sexually abused by Remus Lupin, the Head of the Ministry's Auror department…"

A scattering of shocked gasps was quickly silenced with hushing motions as hungry eyes continued to pierce the screen.

"Mr. Potter himself has refused to comment, but his lawyer confirmed that the Potters have brought an action against Lupin hours after Mr. Malfoy's report. Unfortunately, more information is currently unavailable on the developing story, but BBC: MageDiv will be sure to keep you updated."

Anxious murmuring rose immediately over the coffee tables, drowning out the next story. Snippets of outraged exclamations mixed with the general hum of confusion, symbolizing the new ambiance of the wizarding population of England.

* * *

_Past_

"Harry, this has to stop," Remus looked down at his latte, preferring the calm, beige liquid to the judging eyes of his companion.

"What are you talking about?" Harry laughed as though he heard the most absurd statement possible. His lips spread in a charming smile, gleaming at what he conceived to be a clever joke.

"I can't do this," despite his inability to look the younger man in the eye, Remus kept a firm tone. He tried to still his fingers from tearing apart the napkin.

"But _why?_" Harry's smile remained pasted on his face, a parody of the higher pitch his tone had taken. He took Remus' hand across the table, gently squeezing until the fingertips turned an angry red. "We enjoy ourselves – that's all that matters!"

"No, Harry," Remus tried to tug his hand back, but being unable to do so made him glance up – right into wide, innocent, blazing eyes. "What about your children? What about _Ginny_? She already suspects us."

Harry's light laughter was lost in the hubbub of the muggle coffee shop. "So what? I enjoy you! Tell me you don't enjoy it, Remus, when I—"

"Harry please!" Remus interrupted, alarmed. He tried to make hushing motions with his free hand, but Harry only laughed louder.

"God, one would think you are a virgin by the way you talk!" Harry suddenly released Remus' hand with a throwing gesture. "Don't you understand that I want this?"

"You can't always get what you want, Harry."

The brunet smiled indulgently, looking far too charming for anyone to distinguish the disguised sneer. "Of course I can. Who _wouldn't_ give their life for me?"

Remus gazed despairingly at his lover, wondering if he could still use the deplorable term. Where had it all gone so wrong?

"You aren't normal, Remus." Harry's voice jarred and teased, even as his shining eyes captivated any onlookers. "Why don't you love me?"

"Harry, you've changed, you…" His eyes darted all around the coffee shop, taking in the plump waitress, the scuffed chairs, the flashing signs, the worn linoleum, anything, _anything_ but the man across the table.

"But I love you!" Harry smiled again, a shy, gentle smile with the barest hint of dimples at the corner of his mouth. Remus wanted so much to believe that smile, the smile that dragged him down to this insanity.

"No, you don't." He stood up, staggering. "You can't and you don't, because you're playing a game. I won't let this go on."

Harry rushed up after him, grabbing the forgotten latte and hurling it against the counter. Hot liquid and clay shards sprayed against the terrified receptionist, but she was hardly spared a glance.

"You are _not_ leaving me!"

Remus looked torn between helping the receptionist and simply fleeing out of the door. "You cannot control everyone around you. Do you even see how much they hurt? Harry, do you see…?"

"Yes I can!" As Harry screamed, for one wild moment Remus thought he had gotten through. Until, "I know what I want, Remus, and you can't steal that from me! You'll regret this!"

Remus began backing away as he saw tears rising in Harry's eyes. He knew well enough not to believe it by now. The tears, the smiles, the eyes, the laughter… they all just dragged his deeper.

"I'm sorry…It has to stop, Harry…Now."

As the door clapped against its pane, Harry wailed and clutched at his hair, half-sinking to the floor. His voice turned into a hoarse, guttural shriek before rising into a lingering whine. Half-turning and half-slipping on the linoleum, he apparated away right in front of the huddled waitresses.

* * *

_Present_

A clip of Harry walking out of the Ministry building zoomed in to play full screen, replacing the stern-looking reporter. A hat and a pair of aviators covered his eyes as Malfoy helped him weave though the crowd of photographers and journalists.

"It is verified now that Mr. Potter was sexually exploited by his superior."

The television rolled through several pictures of Harry answering questions for journalists concerning the Auror department. The camera zoomed in on Remus nodding approvingly in the background and Harry and Draco dealt with the press.

"Mr. Malfoy told our reporters that Potter recently came to him for help."

A new coverage filled the screen with Draco's somber expression. "He just couldn't deal with that bastard anymore and he had to tell someone. He relied on me to help him."

As the footage showed Harry and Draco leaving the crowd behind and getting into a waiting car, the reporter continued. "It has come to the attention of one of our journalists a short while back that there was certain discord between the Director of the Auror Department and his top employees."

A clip dated two weeks ago showed a young woman asking questions at a typical PR interview. "Is it true that you have had a conflict with your boss lately?"

The question was targeted at Harry, who answered swiftly after sparing his partner a glance. "Nonsense. Remus is a wonderful man. We just had some disagreement in choosing the new recruits."

"Mr. Potter is currently undergoing a psychological evaluation at St. Mungo's, concerning his traumatic experiences…"

* * *

_Past_

The ministry function was just like any other – a raucous affair of drinking and dancing the moment the speaker stepped down from the podium. The dance floor brimmed with twirling couples as clusters of old friends dotted the tables along the walls of the expansive hall.

"He's seemed off lately," Ron brooded as he nursed a light drink and shot periodic glances at the appetizer table.

"He looks no different…" even as she spoke, Hermione's tone held reservation. She bit her lip and too looked at the black-haired figure in the center of a circle of admirers. "He seems to be enjoying himself."

"He's been drinking too much." Even as Ron spoke, Harry downed his countless glass of expensive champagne, laughing gaily.

"How often?" Draco felt he couldn't stay out of the conversation any longer.

"Every time I see him," Ron sighed and swiped a hand over his forehead. "It's the first thing he asks for when he comes over for a chat. I was over at his place just two days ago and went into the kitchen to get a drink. It was _stacked_!"

Hermione pushed her glass away and tore her gaze from the shining hero across the room. "Maybe you should talk to him?"

Draco only snorted and shook his head. "What makes you think he'll listen to me?"

"You're his partner. That counts for something…"

"In the department," even as Draco protested, he saw no other alternative.

Harry's smiles flowed as smoothly as the champagne in his glass as he turned from one official to another, enchanting and sweet. He touched the Minister's arm lightly, playing, before turning to lean toward the head Magistrate instead. His tinkling mirth never seemed to cease.

* * *

_Past_

"How was your evening? You look so dull, sitting here…"

Draco looked up from his drink, expecting to see the star of the show. Instead, the Harry that sat next to him was staring across the hall in uninterested annoyance, tapping his fingers vaguely against an empty crystal flute.

"No different from how I usually spend these evenings…" Draco replied carefully, unsure. Then again, those who considered themselves close to Harry were never too sure anymore.

"You are so depressing, Draco, how do I stand you?" Harry tried to grin at his partner, but it turned quickly into a grimace as he threaded a hand through his hair, tugging viciously at the black locks.

"Harry…hey, if you have something to tell me, just do it. I see that you're not alright." Draco let his masks and pretenses slide for the moment, knowing no one else really cared to notice.

"Of course, Draco," Harry seemed to brighten up as he looked over at his partner, eyes shining as though he saw him for the first time. "Definitely."

'Why didn't I think of him before?' Harry thought giddily as he asked a passing waiter for another glass, heedless of Draco's warnings. 'The little moron will do anything for me.'

"Harry, did you even hear what I said?" Draco slapped his palm on the table, but it hardly had an effect on his beaming friend.

"Of course, Draco, of course I did," Harry patted Draco's hand, making sure to glance at him from under his brows as he did. He flashed his teeth briefly in mimicry of a smile. 'If you won't be mine Remus, why should you be anyone's?'

Draco pulled back, looking uncomfortable. "Where's Ginny? I thought she insisted on coming to these things with you…"

"I'm sure she's around," Harry vaguely waved his hand, as though bored. 'I could have been your doll…'

"Maybe you should find her before she is too upset," Draco kept speaking, meaninglessly, knowing no one was listening but needing to fill some void.

Harry hummed his consent. 'Isn't that what I'm for?'

The blond was talking on in the background, unable to stop. He could not bear Harry's dreamy silence.

'I will be your end,' Harry sipped at his wine, not really tasting a drop. 'And then on to the next…'

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A/N: This is probably going to be another 3-part piece. I'm experimenting with a bit of an unbalanced Harry. Hell, anyone with his life should be unbalanced.

So, **please humor me with some suggestions and criticism! I would love to hear your opinion of Delusional-Harry!**

-Shaity out.


	2. Press

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Slut 

By Natasha Shaitanova

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Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_. 

A/N: The poem, just like the last one, is a loose translation. I know that translating from Russian to English results in convoluted results, but you can ignore it as it has little relevance. It's just a little segment that I like.

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_Another moment and straight to heaven_

_And your days worked out well_

_What a beautiful life_

_Everyone is jealous but let them_

_What we have is an ecstasy_

_What a beautiful life_

* * *

_Present_

Tom vaguely dragged a cloth over a shot glass as his attention focused on the TV screen. It was only seven in the morning and already the café was full of restless witches and wizards, anxious for an update on the Potter case.

"…Here we have the latest interview with Mr. Malfoy concerning the case against Remus Lupin."

"He exploited the whole department," Draco's voice flowed over pictures of various Aurors. "The unending missions, reports, digging up old cases, press interviews, all the same again and again, just working…he never gave us a rest, Harry in particular. Many members were severely sleep deprived."

The screen showed Draco twisting a microphone in his hands as he listened to the next question. "He was always coaching Harry on how to look and talk for the press."

A clip from the previous report showed Harry smiling and saying, "Remus is a wonderful person."

"He's a monster."

* * *

_Past_

Harry arrived home in the early hours of the morning, having left the ministry function minutes prior. He walked into the kitchen, only to be startled as he turned on the lights. Ginny sat hunched behind the table, looking gray, tired, and unbearably old. Harry wrinkled his nose unconsciously at the sight.

"What are you doing up?" he asked vaguely, more out of habit than any sincere sentiment.

"Waiting."

"For what?" another absentminded phrase floated over from the open fridge.

"For you."

Finally, Harry straightened up and shook his index finger disparagingly in Ginny's direction. "Let's not be cliché, honey. I almost thought we were playing out a Hollywood scene!"

Ginny swallowed the bitter retort threatening to break through. "Why are you so late?"

This time, genuine surprise shone through Harry's inebriated facade. "What? I was at the ministry meeting, of course! Don't tell me you didn't go?"

"No, I didn't go because you never bothered to tell me!" Ginny spoke harshly but kept her voice low, thinking of the sleeping children. "And here I thought husbands were supposed to bring their wives to these events."

"Don't be so backward, dear," Harry moved to leave the kitchen. "You're a modern woman, so keep up with current events! I'm not your keeper."

"Why do you hate me so much?" she collapsed somewhat on herself, burying her head in her hands. "What have I done wrong, Harry?"

"You can be so silly, Ginny. It's almost as if you think the world revolves around you," Harry's smile portrayed genuine amusement.

"No, it revolves around you, right?" the response was bitter and resentful.

"Can you think of anyone more deserving?"

* * *

_Past_

"I have a request for you, Draco."

Harry sat on the small couch in his office, motioning for Draco to join him. The latter sat down on the edge of the sofa, looking over inquiringly.

"Will you help me?"

Draco furrowed his brows and adjusted his seat. "What's the problem?"

Harry looked at the floor and chewed his lip. "It's about Remus."

"Damn Lupin again," Draco rolled his eyes. "What's he on about this time?"

"I want to put him behind bars." Harry wet his lips and raised his gaze at the opposite wall.

Startled, Draco leaned forward, turning to look Harry in the face. "For what?"

"He's been ignoring me lately," Harry glanced at Draco before rubbing his neck. "He's forsaken me, Draco."

Draco threw his hands up and leaned back against the couch. "Oh God, what a crime! He's not doting on you like a puppy…"

"Well, it hurts a lot, Draco." Harry tried not to sneer as he turned to his partner.

"And why do you think I'm going to help you with your little drama?"

Harry shook his head incredulously. "You're my partner!"

"So what?" Draco threaded his fingers together and placed his elbows on his knees. He sat hunched, as though preparing for whatever exploits his friend was about to come up with.

Seeing Harry's wide, wounded eyes, he tried to reason. "Look, Harry, you can't put an innocent man in Azkaban, no matter how much he pissed you off. He hasn't done anything illegal to you or to the department."

Harry seemed to wave Draco's words aside as he curled a finger through his un-cut hair. "But you will have to help me, if you want me to be with you…"

* * *

_Present_

"After all the unanswered questions and conjectures about the recent incident between Harry Potter and his director Remus Lupin at the Auror Department, in today's reportage Mr. Potter finally reveals the truth…"

Hermione and Ron stared at the television, apprehensive as yet another story concerning their friend dominated the news program. There was a bottle of cognac on the table, half-empty.

"I'm still so shocked, although I'm glad he told me everything and let me help." Draco spoke briefly into the microphone before handing it to Harry and placing an arm around his shoulders.

"It lasted a year on a regular basis, but it started way back in Hogwarts," Harry turned his body closer to Draco before continuing. "Merlin knows how long with craziness would have lasted if I didn't stop it now."

Ron took a gulp from his glass, eyes already vacant. Hermione only covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head from side to side as she watched. The man in the television could not have looked more sincere.

"He was haunting me all the time!" Harry exclaimed to the cameras, before looking pleadingly at his partner. Draco took the microphone and handed it back to the reporters with a standard "No more comments."

As Draco and two security personnel led Harry back to the Ministry car, Ron pulled Hermione to his side and she patted his knee in parody of comfort.

The reporter appeared again on the screen. "The interview with Mr. Potter will be continued after a brief intermission."

The commercials rolled and the couple stayed curled in comfort. For once, Hermione could not fathom the answer to this new insanity.

* * *

_Past_

Draco sat up straight and turned toward his companion, letting the confusion on his face hide a flicker of fear in his eyes.

"Just don't act like you don't know what I mean, Draco!" Harry leaned forward, placing a hand on the sofa, right next to Draco's. "I've seen how you look at me."

Draco looked down and licked his lips – a nervous habit.

"You want me!" Harry was now inches away from Draco's face, his breathing harsh and irregular. He placed his other hand against Draco's cheek. "Imagine, there will be no more Remus in my life anymore. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"And Ginny?" Even as Draco spoke, he made no attempt to back away.

"Who cares? She hasn't been a problem before. It can be perfect," Harry gently stroked his cheek. "Don't deny it, sweetie."

Hesitant and flushed, Draco flicked his eyes up to find Harry's so startlingly close. His breath hitched and some of the fear was smothered by the proximity.

"Just you and me, Draco," Harry tilted his head and bit his lip through that dimpled grin. "You and me."

Draco nodded his head unconsciously as he reached up to brush away the black bangs.

"So does that mean you're with me on this?"

Draco snapped out of his trance and leaned back against the armrest. "Does it look like I have a choice?"

Harry only raised his eyebrows and shook his head with a gentle smile.

* * *

_Present_

"He was blackmailing me, yes." Harry appeared again on the television, his hair somewhat ruffled and a customarily supportive-looking Draco by his side. "He told me that my career would be over if I told anyone about what he was doing to me. He said he knew how to ruin me, you know, me being in the press's eye all the time…"

The reporter nodded along sympathetically as Harry dragged a hand under his eyes, apparently getting rid of moisture that suddenly sprung up.

"He made me stay longer after the department conferences, again and again, doing _that_ to me. Oh God, it is just so nasty for me to think about even now. Disgusting!" Harry wrapped his arms around his torso after getting rid of the microphone, as though it offended him.

Draco spoke to the reporters as he rubbed Harry's back, trying to calm him. "That man traumatized my partner and my _friend_. He is going to pay for it."

The reporter turned away from the pair of interviewees and faced the camera. "Mr. Potter is resolute about putting Remus Lupin in prison."

On the screen, Harry tore himself away from Draco and stared angrily at the viewers. "Of course I am. He fucked up my whole life!"

* * *

- 

A/N: Alright, that's the second part and there is one more to go. I hope the time shifts are not too confusing. I was kind of experimenting with the scene shifts to assist the mood.

**Please tell me how you think the mood and emotions are being conveyed so far. I would love suggestions to make anything and everything more effective!**

-Shaity out.


	3. Wreck

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Slut

By Natasha Shaitanova

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Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_. I don't own Katie Melua lyrics. 

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_I cried for you and the sky cried you_

_And as you went I became a hopeless drifter_

_This life was not for you though I learned from you_

_That beauty need only be a whisper._

* * *

_Past_

"I need your input for this, Draco."

He slouched further into the cushioned chair, drawing in on himself to hide the encroaching guilt. "I told you, I don't know enough to say."

Remus rested his left temple against a weary hand, trying to rub away the torment. "I felt like I was losing my best auror. Now I feel like I may be losing two."

Draco glanced up briefly, his eyes as agitated as his twisting hands. "Look, I'm not his fucking shrink. I don't know what 's wrong with Potter or what he wants."

The words felt sour but their sound was authentic. He was too typically himself to arouse doubt.

Perturbed, Remus aimlessly shuffled papers around on his desk, creating neat little stacks in perfect symmetry. He gave up after the third paper cut.

"Draco, you have to understand that I'm worried. Am I pushing him too hard? Maybe it's too early for him to go out into the field after all…"

"He's fine in the field," Draco studied the golden plaques on the wall as he answered. "He's not suffering from veteran's syndrome, if that's what you're implying."

"Aren't we all, though?"

"Well with that attitude, why not just give up on the whole damn department?" Draco knew he was pushing the limits of impertinence, but his anger raged and seethed in his chest, stifling and constricting his thoughts.

Remus, however, seemed oblivious. "I shouldn't have let him move ahead so easily. Maybe if he had gone through the system like the rest, it would have provided enough buffer…"

"You asked me here for a consult, not a pity fest," Draco grumbled, but not even he fully noticed the words. "There's no point asking me to be your confessor."

"Draco, who else _can_ I ask? I cannot do anything about my mistakes, but Harry's behavior is causing a rift in the department and my first duty is to keep the teams solid. Before long, someone will be lobbying for action…So tell me, who should I ask?"

"Ask the culprit," Draco shrugged and leaned forward, hands on armrests as though ready to leave.

"Harry hasn't spoken to me since…" Remus paused and amended, "Well, I feel like he has been avoiding conversation with me for a while now."

"Look boss, it's your relationship so you figure it out." Draco stood up tensely, his entire posture emanating anxiety. "I don't want a role in this fucked up drama."

'Too bad I've been given one already.'

* * *

_Present_

Ginny stared at the television, dry-eyed but breathless, as she clutched a phone receiver with cold hands. The subtitles streamed across the bottom of the screen – her ears were buzzing too much for her to comprehend the smooth, tailored voice of the reporter.

"…yet another sensation today concerning the Potter affair. Remus Lupin's attorney reports that it was Mr. Potter who was the initial seducer."

The television showed close-up flashes of Harry's face, apparently in shock over the pronouncement. Ginny closed her eyes at the image as she recalled seeing it plastered over the front page of the Daily Prophet, right beneath an old picture of Harry and Remus with their arms thrown around each others shoulders. The title "Lovers?" screamed out to the readers in bold red.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy were swift and vocal in their response…"

The footage rolled to show Harry and Draco in the back of the Ministry car. Harry was gesturing at the camera, face contorted between surprise and anger, while Draco simply shook his head at the window.

"This is such bullshit! We actually laughed when we heard it!" Harry passed a hand over his eyes, his laugh stressed and high-pitched. 

Draco leaned forward, partially shielding Harry from the camera. "Why would Harry need some old man when he has such a lovely wife and his friends to support him?" 

He rested one hand on his knee, one on Harry's, again shaking his head in seeming bewilderment. Harry once more fixated the audience with a wide, pleading stare, picking up from where his partner left off.

"Absurd!"

* * *

_Past_

"Hey, hey calm down now. It'll be alright, I know it. Just breathe. Breathe…"

Ron rubbed his sister's back as she wept herself to exhaustion on his couch. Hermione was hovering nearby with a glass of water and an hour's full of condolences. 

"He pretends that I don't exist, Ron!" Ginny's words slurred together into anguished sobs, barely distinguishable but faultlessly heard. "Why does he hate me? Why was there no hint, no indication…?"

"Hush, it'll pass. We'll figure it out. I just don't know… I don't know…"

Ginny sat back slightly and accepted the proffered glass, taking several small gulps. She wiped at her tired eyes, letting out a frustrated huff at the sticky moisture on her face. "What should I do? Just tell me, what am I going to do about the children, the house…?"

"Ginny, dear," Hermione hugged her friend, but any verbose sympathies seemed lost on her tongue. "Just know that none of this is your fault. He hasn't been the same…"

"Since the war," Ron shook his head grimly, gripping at his hair. "And we all said he just needed space."

"We won't know where and how things went so wrong."

Hermione had so many knowledgeable tidbits with which to present a concise, logical explanation. Her mind buzzed with quotes about post-traumatic stress and defensive mechanisms and instinctive aversion and psychiatric casualties and a myriad other fancy terms that flashed like gaudy neon signs. The wise terminology and pompous research papers seemed oddly alien – too clinical, too sterile. _Sterile_. 

To the experts, Harry would be another casualty to add to the statistics. Dehumanized, de-individualized, a nameless fact.

Call her irrational, but Hermione still saw a living man. 

* * *

_Present_

The Leaky Cauldron was filled to the brim with witches and wizards from the London area. Many were standing around the walls or crouching in the front as the seats had been overfilled long before. Drinks were abundant and untouched.

The wide, bluish screen shone brightly in the dimmed room, as though feeding on the attention of every hungry gaze. Finally, an opening news reel tinkled cheerily over the speakers and lent way to the charming blonde reporter with a folder-full of notes.

"Today's five-hour court session of the civil trial Potter v. Lupin has conclusively brought an end to the proceedings," she began without preamble, with a strict tone and no glimmer of a smile. "Remus Lupin has agreed to a plea bargaining deal with the prosecuting attorney to plead guilty on the charge of statutory rape in return for the appropriately lower sentence."

The audience held its breath, with not one hand moving to cover a gaping mouth, not one eye twitching from the glowing screen. Perhaps some did not understand every word and implication of the loaded sentence, but the weight of the reportage was clear to all.

"Mr. Lupin gave a formal confession to the court of having consensual sexual intercourse with Mr. Potter while the latter was still underage. The charges of abuse and exploitation have been consequently dismissed."

A few less informed individuals in the audience released sighs of relief, but the tension remained griping among the rest. The reporter continued.

"Upon an hour-long deliberation, the Wizengamot has sentenced Remus Lupin to ten years in Azkaban, with no possibility of parole."

A cacophony of reactions drowned out the reporter's elaboration on the sentencing. Cries of anger, cries of satisfaction, cries of shock, cries of confusion…perhaps the only agreement to be reached that night was to assert the chaos that prevailed. 

In the midst of the turmoil, the television footage continued uninterrupted, showing clips of an anxious Harry waiting in the Ministry halls. He rubbed his hands and his eyes darted over the ceiling as his chest heaved with deep, shuddering breaths. Draco was right by his side, as had become customary, shuffling from foot to foot and discretely biting his lips.

Though it wasn't seen on the screen, Harry whispered softly to himself as his eyes kept chasing shadows on the ceiling. His lips barely moving, he repeated to himself, "It's absurd, it's so absurd…" A little sigh, a little laugh. "I want to be a wreck for you…"

No audience ever saw the gentle smile that curved around Harry's mouth as the verdict was announced. 

No audience ever saw understanding flash through Remus's frown as he was led away.

No audience ever saw guilt and pain tear at Draco's façade as he wrapped his arms around Harry's shaking frame.

No one saw.

* * *

-

A/N: And so we reach the finale. I hope you enjoyed the piece, or at least it seemed interesting to you to keep reading ;) 

I have a little request for you! Please tell me what you thought this was about, at least if you cared enough to consider it. If not, then no problem. We are all here for entertainment.

**Angst is new to me and is not yet my comfort zone in writing…so I appreciate all feedback!**

Thanks for reading,

Shaity out.


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